


view from the top

by raggirare



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Training Camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 10:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raggirare/pseuds/raggirare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's so easy to forget that a powerhouse like Shiratorizawa is just another high school like the rest, but a yearly joint training camp in the summer with Aoba Jousai, Datekou and Wakutani South is a good enough reminder that the team is nothing but teenagers.</p>
<p>Or: Kamasaki has hormones and many questions about why he's friends with Matsukawa and Tendou.</p>
            </blockquote>





	view from the top

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misscocokat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misscocokat/gifts).



> A Christmas Present for my lovely wife, Kat, who somehow got me hooked on this ship and I love it and it's just. So great. She indulges me so much and puts up with my shit and lets me torment her with gay.
> 
> Merry Christmas, Kat.

It’s not like Kamasaki has never been manhandled before. He’s more than used to it from Aone when he gets into spats with Futakuchi (or ends up getting riled up by anyone ever), and he’s even been picked up a few times by his fellow middle blocker in the more serious scuffles, so having his feet dangling above the ground isn’t that much of a deal for him.

The problem lies in the fact that it’s not Aone who’s lifted him off of the ground. It’s not even Sasaya or Futakuchi or any of his other teammates. Then there’s the part where the one picking him up is smaller than him (not by a lot, but still a noticeable difference) in both height and build, yet doesn’t seem to be having any trouble in doing so. But the part that really destroys any chance of Kamasaki worming his way out of the entire situation is the sheer intensity of the look in the guy’s eyes. He’s seen the Shiratorizawa setter pulling similar stunts on his own team members, especially that Guess Monster, over the course of the three years they had been around for these interschool training camps, but it’s the first time he’s ever had that wordless look directed at him (and, admittedly, he’s a little turned on by it).

In the time it took him to reach that conclusion, though, the setter seems to have decided that the fight he had been breaking up wasn’t going to resume and he let go of the front of Kamasaki’s shirt, letting the middle blocker drop to the ground and land on his ass, legs unprepared to catch the sudden weight. Kamasaki doesn’t move, though, sitting on the floor of the gym they’d been practicing in and staring after Semi’s retreating back. The first sign of life in the bleach-blond comes from a hand dropping onto his shoulder, and he spins his head around to look up at Tendou, expression still in a half-shocked state.

“I get why you like to piss him off,” he manages to get out, and the red-head just laughs, clapping his fellow middle blocker on the shoulder before helping him back to his feet.

————

Shiratorizawa is known for practicing with schools beyond those that occupy Miyagi. They’re known for practicing with college teams, and for sweeping through the regionals without even batting an eyelid, because they are the true definition of a powerhouse (with emphasis on the _power_ ), and sometimes it’s hard to remember that they’re just regular high school students like the rest of the circuit.

Kamasaki’s reminder comes every summer during these training camps they share with Aoba Jousai and Wakutani South, and there’s a definitely a rift between Oikawa and Ushiwaka, but the rest of the team members always seem to mix with few problems. There’s always little rivalries when they break off to train with others that play in their positions (like Kamasaki’s own with Shiratorizawa’s Tendou, and he’s seen how heated things can get between OIkawa and Semi whenever he gets a chance to watch the setters), but for the most part, they can all get along amicably with close inter-school friendships here and there.

One of the most intriguing he’s noticed is Semi’s with one of Aoba Jousais’ wing spikers, Hanamaki, and he always finds himself unable to help but stare with curiousity, trying to figure out how exactly the dynamic works (and that’s the excuse he’s sticking to, because it definitely does _not_ have anything to do with the way that Semi laughs when he’s around Hanamaki, or the way the setter’s expression looks so different to the cold, threatening anger he had been wearing earlier that day when he lifted Kamasaki off the ground).

“Stop staring at my boyfriend, Yaya, or I might start thinking you’re trying to steal him.”

Kamasaki barely reacts to the voice appearing at his side, barely sparing Matsukawa a glance out of the corner of his eyes before returning his attention to the setter he’s been watching for who knows how long now. “Don’t worry, I don’t want your boyfriend,” he reassures with little effort, even though he knows he doesn’t need to. He’s known Matsukawa for far too long (they went to elementary together with Mattsun’s cousin, all those years ago) to need to make his intentions known. He does accept the bottle offered to him over his shoulder, though, even if he belatedly realizes it’s not from his childhood friend.

“It’s okay, Issei-kun,” Tendou slings his now-free arm over Kamasaki’s shoulders, letting his weight lean down onto the blond. “Yasushi-kun has just finally discovered the true beauty of our Eita-kun.”

Matsukawa hums. “Kindaichi told me about that,” he muses, letting his weight lean against Kamasaki’s side (he’s feeling a little used, right about now). “You two got in a fight and he picked Yaya up off the ground to break it up.”

A shrug from Tendou as he swallows a mouthful of water. “Eita-kun picks me up all the time.”

“Yeah, but you’re like ten kilos lighter than me,” Kamasaki can’t hide his disbelief. “He picked me up and held me off the ground for a good few minutes without even trembling. And the face he makes when he’s that angry?”

“Ugh, he really is like Oikawa, then.” Matsukawa mutters as he straightens and takes his own weight again. “Why are setters so attractive no matter what face they pull?”

“Shiratorizawa's Shirabu isn’t.” A glance to the Guess Monster. “Sorry, Satori.”

Tendou shakes his head, copying Matsukawa and straightening himself up. The coaches are starting to come back which means the break is almost over. “Don’t be. I’m with you and Eita-kun on that one. That kid is not cute.”

————

Tendou and Matsukawa are working against him, Kamasaki figures out almost instantly when they both urge Semi to sit with them during the evening meal, only for Tendou to excuse himself five minutes later for seconds and end up ‘kidnapped’ by the other starting Shiratorizawa middle blocker. Matsukawa disappears not long after courtesy of a well-timed cry for help (Kamasaki wasn’t certain, but the wing spiker seemed to be caught in the middle of yet another arm wrestling tournament).

“They’re not even trying to be subtle, those idiots.”

Kamasaki started a little at the voice beside him, his eyes pulling away from where he’d been glaring daggers at Matsukawa’s back to instead offer Semi a look of confusion paired with an eloquent, “Huh?”

A pair of grey eyes rolled at him, but any malice or venom was destroyed by the laughter that followed. “Moniwa-kun was right, you aren’t the brightest.” So much for no malice. “Satori and Matsukawa-kun. Even Makkun helping Matsukawa like that. Why can’t they just be straightforward about it?” (It takes Kamasaki a good few seconds to realise that ‘Makkun’ is Hanamaki, and he almost loses track of the conversation entierly.) “And you aren’t the most subtle, either. You’ve been staring at me all day. If you’ve got something to say, you should just say it.”

“You’re _really_ hot when you’re pissed off.”

The words fall from Kamasaki’s mouth before he can stop them, and he doesn’t have any time to backpedal because the setter beside him is already laughing at them (Semi didn’t have a mouthful of food in his mouth, at least) and it just makes it even more embarrassing, up until the middle blocker actually _looks_ at Semi and the way his entire face fills when he laughs and the smile that pulls at his lips and the way his eyes crinkle at the corners and the dimples that press into the soft flesh of his cheeks and oh dear lord, he is so _fucked_.

“—saki-kun~? Anyone in there?” It takes a few seconds for Kamasaki to register that the mouth he’s staring at is moving and there’s sound coming out and that that’s his _name_ being called, and he stiffens a little in embarrassment. “You were staring again.”

“Sorry,” Kamasaki apologizes, and he’s thankful that that’s all that his mouth decides to let escape this time, rather than embarrassing him further. “Are you naturally blond?” Or not.

“I am.”

“So you’re not..?”

“Japanese?” Semi laughs and pauses to eat another mouthful of his dinner, reminding the middle blocker of his own unfinished meal. “I am. On my mother’s side, at least. My dad is from England.” Another pause to eat and swallow and then, “Sorry if that ruins any of your fantasies of being with a foreigner.” Except there’s definitely no apologies behind that smirk on the setter’s lips and Kamasaki finds himself unable to do anything but sputter and scramble for words that don’t want to come, and eventually he’s just left to sigh and bury his face into his hands, elbows on the table surface, as Semi stands up and lifts his tray, finished with his food.

————

**[** ✉ **To: Semi Eita ]  
****[ 23:23 ]  
**                  Yo.  
                 It’s Kamasaki.  
                 Tendou gave me your number. 

 

**[** ✉ **From: Semi Eita ]  
                 ** **[ 23:25 ]  
                 **                                                                    I thought he did.  
                                                                                     He gave me yours as well.  
                                                                                     Are you really so lazy as to text me from the next room over?

**[** ✉ **To: Semi Eita ]  
****[ 23:30 ]  
**                  I’m already in bed.  
                 If I move now, it’ll take hours to get comfy again. 

 

**[** ✉ **From: Semi Eita ]  
                                                                    ** **[ 23:35 ]  
                                  **                                                  You’re as bad as Satori.  
                                                                                    Children.  
                                                                                    Go to sleep. You’ll need it for the practice matches tomorrow.

**[** ✉ **To: Semi Eita ]  
****[ 23:39 ]  
**                  You’ll need it more since we’re gonna kick your asses.

 

**[** ✉ **From: Semi Eita ]  
****[ 23:40 ]  
**                                                                                     Too bad mine won’t be on court for you to stare at.

**[** ✉ **To: Semi Eita ]  
****[ 23:40 ]  
**                  GOOD NIGHT.


End file.
